I have been so impatient to hear this result, having devoured the six shortlisted stories on various modes of transportation over the past few weeks. Yes, FINALLY!, we know who has won the Sunday Times short story award: it's the Irish author Kevin Barry and his tale of a group of ale drinkers on a glorified pub crawl in Llandudno. I am so excited and pleased that this won... it was definitely my pick of the six (even though they were all wonderful) because of its sweet and sympathetic portrayal of a collection of men who would ordinarily be dismissed and even ridiculed. It really is a stunning piece of work, and I'm delighted it got the recognition it deserved!
1 Comment
Browsing through the programme for the Sunday Times Oxford Literary Festival earlier today, I noticed that Gavin Pretor-Pinney will be speaking on Thursday. This observation got me thinking about clouds. In case you're unfamiliar with the name, Mr. Pretor-Pinney runs the Cloud Appreciation Society, which consists of a collection of ordinary cloud-fanciers who like to share photographs and tales of clouds they've encountered. [Their website also includes a section entitled 'Music to watch clouds by', containing links to audio files considered a suitable background to cloud-watching. This is all so utterly fantastic that it nearly renders me incoherent.]
I attended a talk that was taking place yesterday as part of the Cambridge Science Festival, that really gave me something to think about. It was delivered by a former colleague of mine who works in memory research, mainly within the context of drug addiction. Without getting too sciency, there are several different types of memory, including emotional memories, which are largely subconscious. These are relevant to drug addiction, as they can elicit powerful cravings in an addict without the individual being aware of where these cravings come from or how to stop them. This is because addicts attribute emotional value to 'cues' or stimuli that are associated with drug-taking. The most obvious are white powder for cocaine addicts, or a teaspoon for heroin addicts, and so on.
I have recently started commuting to London from Cambridge by train and it really is another world. [I only do it two days a week, but I am a serious lightweight and it takes me the rest of the week to recover from the trauma.]
I am fascinated by my fellow passengers; the vast majority being Important Men in Suits, laden down with iThings and briefcases and frowns. Nobody talks, nobody looks around them, and everyone is busy, busy, busy, being all productive and worker bee-like. Apart from me. The two mornings I travelled this week I was reading the Sunday Times Short Story Award shortlist (six short stories; so far, they're all wonderful and I would hate to have to choose between them!), which is fantastic, but I couldn't really concentrate due to all the distractions. Every day I am completely enthralled by the suit-people. I look at their clothes and shoes. And then I look at whatever device they're tapping away at. And then I look more closely, to see what they're doing EXACTLY. Usually emails or Excel spreadsheets. Some of them have phone conversations as well. Really loudly. Usually about meetings or presentations. My problem is that I always make for one of the four-seater set-ups, with the little table, and for some unknown reason, I'm drawn to the inside seat (possibly an evolutionary defensive thing. Or because I like to look out the window - on that note, yesterday morning was really misty and foggy, and the light was so beautiful and silvery as we passed over the hills that it gave me goosebumps! Anyways...). Which is a complete disaster, as within 30 seconds I'm surrounded by the Busy People, and they take up all the space and the little table and I can't move because I'm overwhelmed by all the aftershave and industry. I just think it's so funny, the way we're all squashed into this confined space, and we all have to pretend that there's nobody else on the train. I CAN'T DO IT!!!! I'm Irish; I like to interact with my fellow travellers. I wouldn't dare chat to anyone on my train though. Yesterday morning I was watching my companion to my right pootling around with his gadgets, and a random item started to slip from his knees onto the floor of the train. As I was watching all of this unfold I instinctively grabbed whatever was falling, and immediately apologized (it's like being a documentary-maker; you cannot interfere with the subject) - that's right; I APOLOGIZED for catching his refill pad or folder or whatever it was. And he wasn't a bit happy. Not a bit. Looked at me like I was going to knife him and steal his wallet or something. People on trains are funny... Did I ever tell you about the time I got Pine Mouth? I swear this is a real affliction. So, last year for a while I practically lived on a certain brand of pasta salad, complete with pine nuts sprinkled on top. I would eat it at least twice a week, and for several months I had a weird metallic taste in my mouth. I didn't really expend a lot of effort trying to figure it out (anyone who knows me well will be familiar with my ongoing litany of real and imagined ailments; a metallic taste in my mouth was odd but didn't really penetrate my hypochondriac consciousness). Then, for some reason, I stopped eating pasta salad for two or three months and the metallic taste in my mouth magically DISAPPEARED! I didn't question this; I was just happy. And I still hadn't associated the salad with the funny taste. However, refreshed after my mini-sabbatical from the world of pasta salad, I returned with a vengeance, only to be greeted by the familiar, horrible taste in my mouth afterwards. It's kind of difficult to explain; it would last for DAYS and everything I ate was tinged with a slight taste of metal. Because its return coincided so perfectly with my pasta salad relapse (and being a scientist and all), I decided to do some research and turn to my old friend Google. And what a discovery I made! Pine Mouth has its own Wikipedia entry, and is even being investigated by the FDA - I was dizzy with excitement. It appears to be the case that a 'bad batch' of bitter-tasting pine nuts had infiltrated the food chain, resulting in my most genuine affliction ever. Vindication!
I have been following with interest the row raging between the science publishing giant Elsevier, and the academic research world. Elsevier publish a range of scientific journals, including Cell and The Lancet, two of the highest impact-factor journals in the biomedical field: being published in either of these can define a research career, and is highly sought after. [*impact factor refers to the ‘ranking’ of the journal, according to a formula that takes into account the number of citations each article published in a given time period subsequently receives, as a function of the number of issues or total articles published in that same period. Researchers live and breathe journal impact factors – I can still reel off a list as long as my arm of journal titles and their impact factors, down to the last decimal place.]
Before I go any further, please let me stress that I am absolutely NOT an expert on Irish theatre! In fact, my knowledge is completely piecemeal, and is primarily derived from attending various amateur drama festivals in Ireland as a child and teenager, and haunting the Town Hall Theatre in Galway as a student. Theatre-going is a far more democratic activity in Ireland than in lots of other countries. People don’t generally get dressed up, tickets aren’t that expensive (unless the venue is one of the major theatres), and most communities have an amateur dramatic society that will put on various productions throughout the year. Consequently, nearly everyone is familiar with the work of say, John B Keane or Brian Friel, two behemoths in the world of Irish theatre.
|
About my blog
Really, it contains a little bit of everything, from a celebration of science and the English language to the joys of travel and the Shipping Forecast. The title ('Meanderings') is a fairly accurate description of its content: I write about different things as the mood takes me, but hopefully there's something in here for everyone... Categories
All
Archives
March 2021
|
And on another note... |
|